


Grey Sunlight

by KiaKenobi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anidala grandbabies, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Jedi, Kenobi's Daughter, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Obitine, Post-Star Wars: Rebels, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Skywalker Family Drama, Skywalker and Kenobi, Star Wars References, That's Not How The Force Works, The Dark Side of the Force, The Force Ships It, obitinebaby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:13:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23182279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiaKenobi/pseuds/KiaKenobi
Summary: Something strange is stirring in the galaxy.For twenty-seven years now, the New Republic has reined supreme under the protection of Luke Skywalker and his new Jedi Order; the galaxy is at peace.Or seems at peace.Kiasta Kenobi- daughter of an infamous Jedi General and the newly reinstated Duchess of Mandalore- returns to the Jedi Temple after two months as a hostage within a slave empire that was said to have died out ages before her time to find that something doesn't quite feel right. It's as if she can feel the presence of some dark entity within the very walls of the Jedi Temple.While Kiasta recovers her strength and searches for answers, the Order works to uncover a plot that could lead to something much more terrible than the galaxy could have ever imagined.
Relationships: Kenobi/Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker/Original Female Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Poe Dameron/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> So, everyone has their own version of Starwars they would like to see come to fruition. Perhaps it's the version where Padmé is able to pull Anakin back from the dark side, or the version where Ben and Rey both live and start a family on Naboo. Or maybe it's the version where Ahsoka never left the order- all versions are valid and special. This is my version. It's a lot, but it's an idea brewed from the wish that the characters we love get their shot at happiness. Enjoy!

**Then: Two Months Ago  
**

  
  


**Karzan**

"I surrender."

Kiasta ignored the shock the statement registered. Ignored the horrific stare Kez Morthieas- the stupid, stupid fool- was now giving her; she focused instead on Gje´alna Defaero. The head of the last active unit of Darksin bounty hunters had arched the remaining eyebrow on her face, the only betrayal to her surprise. But Kiasta could feel her trepidation through the Force, fishing for some ulterior motive, which was understandable. The New Republic had wiped out the remaining Darksin with help from the Jedi almost a full year ago, Kiasta herself had killed a unit leader once on accident and she regretted nothing. They were barbaric and cruel and had no regard for the life they took and sold. The one in front of her was no exception. 

"Why?" Gje`alna asked, "Why would _you_ surrender to _us_?"

Kiasta allowed her eyes to slide to the side, a gesture indicating the family of creatures behind her. She didn't know what they were, but the were most-likely the last sentient beings of their kind, which was exactly the reason the Darksin wanted them.

Gje`alna laughed, the sound a harsh bark against the crisp air. "You Jedi and your pitiful resolve to _protect, protect, protect_. I'm disappointed. I expected more from you."

That was a startling thought. 

"More from me?" Kiasta repeated, arms still raised and her peripheral sight still closely monitoring the blasters aimed at her head.

Gje`alna allowed a hideous half-smile to grace her pallid face as she said, "You killed Gje`Ono on Teth. Quite ruthlessly, if my spies are correct."

"That was an accident!" Kiasta snapped, shoving away at the faint cry that would forever be seared into her brain as the Darksin unit leader on the jungle planet of Teth was crushed beneath mountains of rock, "And my job as a Jedi is to protect those who cannot defend themselves."

Gje`alna peered around Kiasta to stare at the trembling family of large-eyes mammals and snorted, crossing her arms across her armored chest. 

"And what's to stop us from shooting you and your little Jedi friend and taking them for ourselves?" she asked, "You might be a Jedi, but you are no Luke Skywalker. You can't be older than seventeen. And you are vastly outnumbered." 

Yes, the twenty armored bounty hunters that surrounded them could have informed her of that knowledge. 

"I'm old enough to know that Darksin keeps their word," she said cooly, lifting her chin a bit higher, "And you're looking for bounty that can survive slave labor. This poor family won't last two weeks. I on the other hand"-

She felt Kez bristle, frozen on his knees with his hands behind his head as three blasters aimed at his cranium. Kiasta ignored him, along with the rising bile in her throat. 

"I was brought up to withstand anything and everything in any climate or terrain. I'm durable. And..." she forced air into her lungs as she spat out her next words, "You know who I am. You know what they will pay for me." 

"The daughter of the Duchess who rules the Council of Neutral Systems and an infamous Jedi general? Oh, I'm aware of your worth Kiasta Kenobi. What exactly are you proposing?"

Kiasta glanced back at the little family of creatures, memorizing the look of pure terror and hope in their eyes to help her later, when she was trapped and alone. Because that's where she would be if she went through with her plan. 

"You let them go and you let them live and you leave them alone," was her first demand; worded so precisely that even Gje`alna Defaero would not be unable to find a loophole, "You take me in their place." 

Gje`alna's eyes glittered. "And him?" she gestured to Kez with her right thumb. 

Kiasta allowed herself to look back at Kez for the first time in minutes. His wide red eyes were strained as her met her stare, full of regret and fear and-

_Keep your emotions reeled in, damn it_ , Kiasta thought at him. This wasn't the time for him to project the emotions he'd never displayed before. In fact, right now was the best time for him to be himself; the emotionless, know-it-all Chiss she'd known since practically birth. Who she had grown with and had learned how to build and wield a lightsaber with. Her colleague of sorts, but not her friend. No, never her friend. When they'd been paired together for this mission, they had both groaned. 

Of course they'd never even made it to Azbrian because Kez had been so insistent on finding this new intelligent species he'd read about. 

"He goes free," Kiasta said quietly, "And If you're worried about him following, I can assure you he won't. Because he is going to take them"- she nodded at the little family- "and get them safe. Leaving you free to depart without him watching." 

"Kenobi-" Kez cried out as one of the bounty hunters struck him with the hilt of their blaster.

Only Kiasta's firmly planted feet, molded into the wet dirt like cement, kept her from flinching. "Do we have a bargain?" she asked breathlessly.

Gje`alna studied her with narrow yellow eyes, then walked forward until she was centimeters from Kiasta's face. 

The woman was tall, of some humanoid species with pinkish-grey skin and jet black hair, and had a face that had been subjected to something brutal on her right side. She looked to be about halfway through life, and Kiasta could feel the wearing on her bones. But that made her no less intimidating as she leaned forward and said, "Gje`Ono was my brother. And your- uh- _friend_? The one with lightning?" She pointed to the scaring on her face, "He did this." 

Blaize. Oh how Kiasta wished Blaize was here right now. 

"So, I'll except your bargain and its terms," Gje`alna agreed with a grin, "But I hope you know that I'm going to revel in every moment of your downfall." 

What happened next was a blur. A blur in which Kiasta allowed herself to be pulled onto a ship without so much as a backwards glance at Kez, who was desperately trying to reach out to her through the Force. But at least he would do what she said. At least she knew of that, because there was no way both of them were getting out unscathed and he owed it to her to hold up her promise to the Darksin.

She tried not to think about what she knew of what became of those taken by these bounty hunters. Instead she thought of the hilarity that she was perhaps putting the galaxy in imminent danger just by disappearing without a trace; the Skywalkers would not be happy...and her father would be worried. But Kiasta knew that someway or another, she'd survive till they found her. Wherever she was going. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Now**

****

**Helfin 4- The Amethon Mines**

Denera Salusi had been trapped in these mines for nearly a month now. Her skin was losing it's bright blue-ish tint from the lack of sun and she'd lost so much weight that the ill-fitting standard uniform she'd been given to wear sagged so that she could have fit two of her inside. This was no place for a young Twi'lek. Well, it wasn't a place for anyone, really, save for droids, maybe. 

But despite being stolen from her home and shoved into a place that never saw the light, Danera could always look forward to one thing. 

When she was released back to the slave quarters after her day's work was done, a small group had already gathered, waiting for tonight's story. She earned a few tight smiles as she entered the room and responded as best she could. She tried not to memorize the faces she saw here, not when half of them disappeared and were replaced almost daily. The only face she ever searched for was that of her younger sister, Daisha, who was still a young and eager child. Thankfully, Danera found her sitting among the younger children on the floor. The elder folk were given the beds to sit on while the rest stood, discussing in hushed whispers.

When the doors once again opened, the children became giddy with excitement as Kiasta Kenobi entered the space. The rest of them had difficulty hiding their winces.

"Kiasta, Kiasta, will you tell us the one about the Acklay you defeated on Vendaxa?"

"No! I want to hear about the Angels on Millius Prime!"

As the children argued with each other, Danera watched Kiasta pat the arm of a few of the older residents, sharing a warm smile that still somehow resonated genuine. 

Kiasta was already here when Danera and Daisha had been taken and practically thrown in. She'd also been the first to reach out and help them adjust, just as she seemed to do for everyone here who had been taken and forced into such thankless work. 

"You don't know who that is? _How can you not know who Luke Skywalker is?!_ " 

Kiasta pressed a finger to her lips as she bent down in front of a young boy, quieting him with a stern look. "That's quite enough, Brego," she said. 

"But he doesn't even know who Luke Skywalker is!" Brego hissed, jabbing a finger at the young Zabrak male next to him. 

Kiasta angled her head slightly, peering down at the boy in curiosity. "Well, tonight's story goes back even further than Luke Skywalker." 

The children's eager faces only brightened as the young Jedi stood again, slightly unbalanced for a moment before she begun her story.

Danera would be lying is she said she didn't lean forward with everyone else in anticipation. 

"Hmm," Kiasta looked thoughtful for a moment. "Who knows about the Clone Wars before the Empire?"

All of the children raised their hands. 

"Good. Now, the Clone Wars ended almost fifty years ago at the start of the Empire's reign. And Luke Skywalker, with the help of the Resistance, ended the Empire's reign twenty seven years ago-"

"And he brought back all the Jedi!" Danera heard Daisha blurt out. 

"That's right," Kiasta acknowledged, "but this story isn't about Luke Skywalker. This story is about another young Jedi named Scarlet Wolf." 

The whole room seemed to shiver in excitement. That was another name of legend that every child across the galaxy heard growing up: Scarlet Wolf, the last surviving Jedi of the old order. 

"Scarlet Wolf was a young girl from a place not in our universe," Kiasta began, "she came from a family with powers even more mystical than our own Jedi powers. When her family was killed, she came to our world; our galaxy. For two years, she dwelled on the desert planet of Tatooine, unnoticed and unbothered, until a young Padawan learner named Ahsoka Tano came to the city. She and her Master, Anakin Skywalker, were on a mission for the Jedi when she discovered them. Anakin found her to be Force sensitive- meaning that she had the power to become a Jedi- and he took her back with him at the end of their mission. Well, as it turns out, Scarlet ended up being trained by Anakin's former Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. She fought on the front lines with the Jedi and the Clones alike, and the more she trained, the stronger her powers grew. And one day, after she turned fifteen years old, her powers became so strong that she couldn't control them anymore."

A young Rodian girl raised her hand, "What kind of powers did she have?"

"All the powers a Jedi should," Kiasta answered, "She could use the Force just like me." The children gasped in awe as the young Rodian lifted off the floor with a simple flick of Kiasta's fingers, just for a moment, before lowering back to the dusty concrete. Danera chuckled at their amazement. 

"But she was much stronger with the Force than any other Jedi. She could use lightning against her enemies. And she could control the skies, even the pull of gravity if she wanted to." 

"Lightning?" Brego gasped, "But couldn't the Emperor do that? The one who ruled the Empire?"

"What the Emperor used was a form of dark energy," Kiasta corrected, "Scarlet's lightning was bright white; an array of beautiful colors. Much different from the Emperor's dark powers."

Brego seemed satisfied with that answer, "Oh." 

"Now, after her powers were discovered, Scarlet had to learn how to use them again, because after she'd left her homeworld, they vanished. But not soon after that, the Jedi were betrayed and the Clone Troopers were forced to execute the Jedi across the galaxy until only the ones clever enough to escape were left. Scarlet and her master were fortunate enough to make it out alive, but they were forced to separate because the Emperor's servant would find them if they didn't."

Faint whispers that carried the name of Darth Vader hissed through the room like steam. 

"For almost twenty years, Scarlet took on the codename Mara Jade; a deadly assassin who attacked the Empire where it would hurt the most. Until one day, she met a young pilot named Luke Skywalker on board a giant space station the Empire had built."

"But wait, I thought you were talking about Anakin Skywalker earlier?" Daisha interrupted, "I thought you said this story isn't about Luke?"

"It isn't. But that doesn't mean he doesn't play an important part. After all, Anakin was Luke's father and Scarlet was very close to him during the Clone Wars." 

Brego gasped, "So, Anakin _was_ Darth Vader! Scarlet knew Darth Vader before he became Darth Vader?!"

"Hush, Brego!" the woman in the back snapped at him, "Let her speak."

Kiasta gave her a tired smile before continuing on. "Yes, Scarlet knew Vader before he turned to the darkness that was the Empire. When he turned, she was devastated. But in the end she helped his son restore the Jedi, and she did so by providing a place for Luke to build a new Jedi temple."

Danera leaned forward just a little more. She'd heard the rumors of the planet where the Jedi trained, and apparently it wasn't a place easily reached. 

"There was a planet that Scarlet and Luke discovered deep in wild space called Aletaron. It was a planet so strong with the Force that Scarlet could feel everything that was happening on its surface, she felt the running water and the budding trees, even the faint breeze against the rocky cliffs."

Another raised hand, this time from a Quarren boy. 

"I've heard that Aletaron moves," he said softly, "That it travels like a ship." 

Heads turned back to Kiasta, who grinned. "It does travel. It can even travel through hyperspace if Scarlet commands it to," she responded, "It's quite incredible." 

It sure sounded as such. A moving planet? One that was controlled by a singular being? It sounded much too far-fetched to be true...

"And there was something else," Kiasta said, "As Luke was rebuilding the Order, there was a great awakening within the Force. It was like a wave sent across the galaxy, everyone could feel it, whether you were a Jedi or not. And then something unheard of happened- Jedi that had been long dead were resurfacing, alive and well, all over the galaxy." 

The children's eyes were as wide as saucers, so quick to believe the tale Kiasta had spun. The others, however, seemed to see it as just that. A fictitious story. 

Not that they didn't believe in the fact that Jedi existed- obviously there was one right it front of them- but the mystery that shrouded them made it hard to decipher real from fiction. Danera believed that there was a living Force, and that certain beings were able to control it using some sort of ancient power. But lightning that shot out of people's hands? A planet that a single person controlled? Resurrection? She wasn't sure if she believed all that.

"Is she still alive? Scarlet Wolf?" It was the Zabrak boy. A new child who had been caught. How long would he last down here?

Some spark seemed to lighten Kiasta's eyes, "Scarlet Wolf is my master. The Jedi who trained me." 

Even Danera blinked at that. How was that likely? The rest of the adults seemed to be thinking the same thing, but the young imaginations would not be deterred. 

"Wait a minute," Brego had cut the gag around his mouth, "Your name is Kiasta Kenobi! And you said that Scarlet Wolf was trained by a Jedi named Obi-Wan Kenobi and you _also_ said that certain Jedi came back to life, so does that mean you two are related? You and Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Danera had to applaud the child on his ability to keep up, she hadn't even remembered the name 'Obi-Wan'. Kiasta seemed impressed as well, but as she opened her mouth to answer, her eyes flicked to the exits. 

"That's a story for another time," she said without looking away. 

The doors burst open the next instant, the lights flashing off and replaced with the low, ominous red emergency lighting. 

"LIGHTS OUT!" the slave-drivers screamed, brandishing their electrostaffs at those still scrambling to get up in their bunks. 

Danera knew the drill and was already seated with her back against the metal railing by the time the slavers reached her area. Kiasta's bunk was across the isle from hers, and she had some trouble getting up in time, her legs unsteady as she tried to jump up to the middle row. Danera bit her lip as Kiasta's foot swung up and over, nearly missing the crackling end of an electrostaff. 

The slave-driver stopped to sneer at her as he passed, "Careful, Jedi. Wouldn't want to slip now, would we?" 

Kiasta had no response and didn't even deign to watch him continue his sweep, cackling like an ill bantha. 

"Are you alright?" Danera asked when the doors were closed once more. 

Kiasta nodded, giving her a tight smile. "I'm fine." But she wasn't.

She might be a Jedi, and those skills had certainly made it easier to endure this hell, but she was still human. And because she was a Jedi, their captors made her life all the more difficult. Normally, the slave-drivers only struck those who stepped out of line, but all Kiasta had to do was glance in their direction. They beat her tirelessly, and yet somehow she managed to get up and make it through the next day. 

Her face was currently sporting a purpling bruise on her left cheek and several cuts on both sides of her face, but despite how hollow her cheeks were and how sharply her cheekbones jutted out, she was still somehow beautiful. That was the first thing Danera had thought when she'd met Kiasta Kenobi, how beautiful she was, even down here. Her skin was had probably once been creamy and porcelain, and there was just the tiniest trace of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her eyes, up-tilted just a hair, were clear and bright, the color of sea foam. And her long auburn hair had somehow retained its strength through- well. It wasn't long anymore, as of today. She must have truly pissed someone off, because she'd left this morning with that long hair tied back in a braid and she'd returned with it barely reaching past the nape of her neck, the ends uneven and scraggly. 

"You know, you don't always have to be fine," Danera said quietly, "You might be a Jedi, and all, but you're still a sentient being. And this is hell." 

Kiasta looked over at her and Danera could see just how tired she was. Her body was so, so thin. Such a little thing. 

"The moment we believe our strength can fail is the moment it will," was Kiasta's response. 

Danera fought a scoff. 

"I suppose that's exactly the kind of mysterious nonsense that people would expect to come out of a Jedi's mouth," Kiasta said thoughtfully. But she smiled, "My father taught me that saying, you know."

Danera raised her brows, she and Kiasta had talked about plenty, but never about their families. "Was your father a Jedi?" Danera asked. 

" _Is_ a Jedi, yes." 

"And are you really related to the General who fought in the Clone War? Obi-something Kenobi?"

Kiasta arched an eyebrow, "Obi-Wan Kenobi is my father, Danera." 

Danera stared at her, doing the math in her head. If Obi-Wan Kenobi was even alive he'd have to be well over-

"Oh, I'm aware of how old he is. Were you not listening to the story?" 

"Don't do that mind reading thing!" Danera snapped, "and yes, I was listening. You mean to tell me that your father was one of the resurrected Jedi, don't you?"

Kiasta shrugged with a tired smile. "He certainly doesn't look eighty-eight years old."

Danera just shook her head. "Say I believe you," she said, "Do you think he's looking you?"

Kiasta blew out a long breath, her right arm reaching to clutch at her left side. "I'm sure he is."

"Do you think the Skywalkers are looking for you?"

Now, that name was more infamous. Skywalker. Like characters from a holobook, the Skywalkers seemed to be what everyone was always talking about these days. Luke Skywalker- Grand Jedi Master- and Leia Organa- a Princess and Resistance General, and usually the name of smuggler-turned-hero Han Solo would pop up there too. They were what was known as the 'big three' back home on Ryloth. Or 'big four' if you included Scarlet Wolf. Some believed that she was still a myth. And then of course was Luke's twin son and daughter, the mysterious Blaize and Calysta, who were said to have strange powers and be very dangerous. And Leia Organa's son, Ben Solo. Rumor had it that he'd last been seen near Coruscant. 

Kiasta herself was quite famous, too. Whenever you heard the name Skywalker, usually Kiasta Kenobi was near as well. 

"I think I'm concerned that they've turned the galaxy inside-out by now," Kiasta replied tiredly, "They can...overreact sometimes."

"I'm sure they just want you safe." Danera wondered what her Mama and Papa were thinking right now. They were so poor that it was likely they weren't even able to search for her and Daisha...she shoved the thought away. That day when those bounty hunters had come, her Papa begging on his knees, had been the worst day of her life.

But Kiasta wasn't even looking at her anymore. She was instead looking at the doors, her whole body erect with focus. 

And then, the ground shuttered. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Now**

****

**Helfin 4- The Amethon Mines**

After nearly two months of radio silence- enduing near-starvation, beatings, and mining- Kiasta finally felt a familiar presence. Several familiar presences for that matter. 

The slave quarters were buzzing as the ground began to resume its rumbling, dust and flakes of ceiling falling to the dirty floor. 

"What is that?" Danera Salusi- a pretty blue-skinned Twi'lek- glanced around, her grey eyes wide with alarm. 

The quaking halted almost too abruptly. The silence that followed was so still, the air so tense that you could have dragged a knife through it. 

Kiasta felt her heart thump hard against her ribcage, pumping blood to areas of her body that had gone almost numb. She was exhausted, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that; could feel it in every fiber of her being. But the Force was with her. Even here in this hellhole, and it filled her to the brim, driving away the pain in her side and on the back of her skull where they'd practically sliced her neck open. Suddenly, she had energy thrumming beneath her skin. 

She looked at Danera to answer the girl's question, "Jedi."

_**BANG**_. Those confined here shrieked as the entire room jolted, followed by the sound of blaring alarms outside. 

Kiasta dropped from her bunk and skidded around until she'd made it to the door, nearly slipping due to the horrid traction in the boots they'd given her to wear.

"Wait!" Danera had followed her, and was now grasping at Kiasta's outstretched hand, "What are you doing?"

Kiasta barely spared her a glance. "Stay here," she instructed breathlessly, "Someone will find you."

If Danera made any protests, Kiasta didn't hear them. She used the Force to unlock and open the door, duck out, and close it behind her. 

The corridor was only lit by red lights flashing in-tune with the screeching sirens, and the floors shook every few seconds, expelling even more dust and lose debris from the ceiling. The Jedi were attacking, that much was clear... but there were hundreds, if not thousands of slaves trapped in this facility. 

_All of which is deep underground_ , Kiasta realized, _They'll collapse the entire mine before they realize!_

"Hey!" Another thing: the slave-drivers had vanished. All except for this one at the opposite end of the hall.

Like every other whip-wielder here, the male Devaronian had too large horns growing out of the top of his head, making him seem even larger than he already was. 

"Get back to your quarters, _Jedi!"_ He snarled the term so gutturally that Kiasta felt inclined to be offended. She would rather him call her a dirty little harpy if he was going to get that nasty. 

The slave-driver had begun stalking towards her, the electricity of his whip crackling as it unfurled and dragged behind him. 

Kiasta extended her right hand, every muscle from her shoulder blade to the tip of her fingers pulled taut as the Force punched out from her palm, slamming into the Devaronian and sending him all the way back down the corridor, his head nailing the back wall. 

Weeks. She'd wanted to do that for weeks. 

Striding back down the trembling corridor, she stooped to pick up the fallen whip before breaking into a sprint around the corner, racing until she'd found a lift up to the upper-levels. 

She tried to channel her father's calm as the lift moved, but her thoughts raged and her blood was racing, the pounding in her head was growing louder and louder. The lift pinged to signal it's arrival to the upper-level of the mine. Kiasta tightened her grip on the handle of the long golden whip, ignoring the way she felt herself flinch at the sound of its electricity coming to life. When the lift doors opened to reveal one of the many upper-level chambers within the mines-

"YOU!" The room was filled with slave-drivers, whose attention instantly fell on her. 

The nearest reached for her wrist, "Come 'ere, ya' Jedi scum!"

Kiasta snapped the whip diagonally, flinching slightly as the coils wrapped around the slave-driver's arm. He screamed in agony as electricity jolted him and he was able to feel the pain that every slave in this facility went through.

As a being who had been subjected to that very treatment, a part within her cringed at the pain in the Devaronian's eyes. The other part- the part that she often found herself smothering, because as a Jedi it was not something tolerable- grinned inwardly at the payback for the last two months. 

Kiasta tugged the whip free and brought it down hard, allowing what was left of her brute strength to slice that whip into the slave-driver's skin and send him to his knees. Two others were quick to approach, whips at the ready. Kiasta reached for the non-existent lightsaber at the hilt of her non-existent belt with her free hand, biting her tongue until it bled when she realized that neither of her weapons- her very lifeblood- were wear they would normally be in a fight. Her father would kill her when he found out. 

Without her lightsabers, she would have to improvise to avoid being electrocuted into oblivion. 

When the first whip was prepared to strike, she struck with her own first, the coils wrapping around the throat while she used the entire force of her small form to jump, tuck her knees and slam her feet into the other Devaronian. She might be little, but she'd been taught from a very young age that size mattered not. With three out of the way, that left at least six to deal with. 

She recognized some of them, and most had sneered while taking a whip to her, chattering to each other while she'd suffered. It was not hard to lock herself away in the Force and let sixteen years of combat training take over. 

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

_Four-_

She was slammed back into consciousness as her elbows hit concrete, stopping her before she could break her nose on the floor. 

The Devaronian she'd just about knocked out before her boots had caught on the ends of the too-long pant legs of the standard jumper that all slaves were forced to wear grabbed a fistfull of her hair, or what was left of it, and yanked hard. 

Kiasta yelped, reaching a hand back to grasp at his wrists as he lifted her entire being off the floor. She saw his free hand come up in the corner of her eyes, a whip crackling in his palms, ready to strike-

Short bursts of different hands holding different whips- all of which were meant to strike her- flashed through her brain; every scar left on her body from them seemed to sizzle alive with pain again, shooting through her like lightning.

The remaining slave-drivers dropped to the floor, the crack that split the air as their necks snapped still echoing around the chamber. 

As the Devaronian holding her off the ground slumped over, Kiasta slipped from his grasp and landed in a crouch on the floor, an empty pit opening in her stomach as she observed the dead scattered around her; their necks were bent at odd angles, glazed eyes still open and watching. 

_Not the Jedi way_ , Kiasta thought miserably. Even if they were the scum of the galaxy. 

She didn't think she'd be able to touch another whip again without hurling up her actual gut, since there was nothing in her stomach, so she left them coiled on the floor. She'd have to use hand-to-hand, but she could not do so in this hideous jumpsuit. She didn't even have to undo the buttons at the top, the mass of grey material was so large on her that she simply shoved the sleeves off of her shoulders and let the garment drop. Beneath was a compression suit that had been sliced so severely damaged that it exposed practically her entire abdomen, which was more clothes than she usually trained with, so she'd take it. She could have kept the boots, but they had no traction, and one wrong move would have her on the floor. So, she removed them and headed out the nearest exit without so much as a glance back to the slave-drivers who's necks she'd snapped. 

The entire mine still shook every few minutes, though Kiasta could now feel the tremors through the floor. As she sprinted through the corridors, sirens still shrieking and red lights flashing eerily in the empty halls, she caught wind of shouting. 

And as she turned a corner, the familiar presence of Obi-Wan Kenobi hit her like hot water. She skidded to a halt, closing her eyes as she allowed the Force to help her find him...

_This is the upper level of the mines. All of the security has probably been diverted to the surface levels, leaving the lower levels less-guarded, which means-_

"Control center." She nearly smiled as she took off again in the opposite direction, going so far as to kick off of walls as she rounded the corners to get her there sooner. 

The jumble of voices helped to lead her there, and within moments, the open doors of the entire facility's control panels was in her sights. She started towards it, only to see the coil of a whip around her wrist too late before she felt the electricity spiking white-hot through her veins. 

She felt herself shriek, her consciousness blinking in and out before instinct had her yanking back as hard as she could, dragging the slave-driver still attached to the hilt of the whip down and straight into her knee. The squeak he released when her knee hit his jaw was pitiful and somehow it filled Kiasta with rage. 

She shoved the slack-jawed Devaronian aside and practically stalked into the control room. 

Her father had just dealt with problems of his own, judging by the body's surrounding him on the floor. The last was still attempting to fight, snarling at Obi-Wan Kenobi's vibrant blue lightsaber. Kiasta seized a blaster lying on the floor and hurled it at the slave-driver's head. They might not have been elegant weapons, but they certainly had multiple functions. 

Obi-Wan whirled when the blaster found its home with a dull thud. 

The relief in that familiar face was enough to calm Kiasta's sudden burst of anger. Or so she thought. Her father's semi-relaxed stance had tightened once more, her name on his lips-

Kiasta whipped around, hand outstretched to grasp the piece of metal she'd wrenched out of the railing that ran around the short platform sitting above the control room. She swung. The sound of crunching bone echoed through the room as the Devaronian Kiasta thought she'd dealt with snuck up behind her and was met with hard metal. 

She dropped the railing when he was on the ground and glared. He'd been the one to slice off her hair.

She allowed a breath to whoosh out of her as she turned back to the control room, back to where her father stood, his lightsaber still ignited at his side. He stretched out a hand as Kiasta hopping over the railing that lined the platform and landed softly on her feet, allowing that arm to embrace her tightly. The familiarity of it was near intoxicating. The smell of wind and sea hidden beneath the scent of dust and sweat from her father's cream-colored tunic, the humming of his lightsaber, the callused hand that stroked from the top of her head to the nape of her neck. 

"Your hair?" 

Kiasta looked up from where she'd nestled into his shoulder, the sound of his accented voice enough to make her grin through the pulsing ache in her temple. "I'm not very good at being a prisoner," she said with a shrug. 

Obi-Wan arched a brow, eyes narrowing just a hair as he glanced over the damage to her face. 

The sudden banging in the hall had them both tensing. Kiasta reached once again for the non-existent weapons at her hips, and her father raised his own, pulling her back behind his other raised arm. 

But Kiasta knew the presence banking towards them almost as well as she knew her father's.

Anakin Skywalker, in all his glory, stalked onto the platform. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Now**

****

**Helphin 4- The Amethon Mines**

Anakin Skywalker had gone from a nobody on a dirt planet, to a Jedi Knight and famous war General on the front lines of a pointless war, to a Sith Lord with an invisible rank within an endless Empire that had been overthrown by his children, to dead, and then back to a Jedi Knight. Well, Jedi Master, if anyone was counting titles. But in his seventy-two years of life, he still had not held up the last promise he'd made to his mother. To return to her after becoming strong enough and free all the slaves. Not just on Tatooine, but everywhere; at nine years old he'd expected to one day be able to liberate the entire galaxy.

Of course when he'd finally gained enough power to do so, he'd done quite the opposite and become the galaxy's slave driver for almost twenty-five years. When he thought about it- the fact that he'd been turned into the very thing he'd sworn to destroy, a puppet of mass destruction kept around solely for his power- it made him want to hurl his guts up, even now.

But even if he'd never had the power to free every slave in the galaxy, the fact that facilities like this still existed astounded him. The galaxy was so kriffing old; so advanced, yet people still felt that it was necessary. He'd been nine when he was freed. Nine. And not that he'd ever been back to Tatooine since his mother had died, but he could assume that nothing had changed after sixty-three years.

Anakin's son had banished slavery in most corners of the galaxy with the help of the New Republic, but it was facilities such as these mines that had proven to be tricky.

Helphin 4 was a random moon that orbited some random planet he'd never heard of on the very edge of the outer-rim. The Blithe Syndicate had several of these operations hidden away in places no one had ever thought to look. He and Obi-Wan had uncovered three of these mines before discovering this one, and if Kiasta Kenobi had not been trapped somewhere in this hellhole, they might not have looked twice at the moon. But the search for Anakin's best friend's daughter had set not only him on edge, but his former mentor as well. They'd been set to make another jump from the planet they'd just inspected when they felt it; a pulse through the Force both Anakin and Obi-Wan knew belonged to Kiasta. They'd called for a starship before landing on the moon. Scarlet Wolf had brought a small army of Jedi to assist in retrieving her Padawan and destroying this place, and for the most part it had been easy. Most of the fighting was happening up on the surface, a distraction for Anakin and Obi-Wan to slip into the mines and destroy it from the inside. And find Kiasta Kenobi. 

And walking into the control room to find his niece-of-sorts in one piece, already having been found by her father, was a sight that allowed a little more breath to fill Anakin's lungs. 

"Anakin." The tension didn't leave Obi-Wan's shoulders as he started up where Anakin had just walked in, but he lowered his lightsaber. The arm still thrown out in front of his daughter remained where it was by pure instinct, Anakin knew.

Something dark simmered in his former master's eyes that very rarely submerged these days. It wasn't hard to understand why. 

Kiasta Kenobi's eyes were bright with the adrenaline of battle, wide with relief and alert with trepidation. The rest of her was...hard to look at. She'd always been so little, so lithely built that even he sometimes forgot what a formidable opponent she could be. But now she was nearing scrawny. Through the rips in the filthy compression suit she wore, he could see the outline of her ribs. Her cheeks had been hollowed out and her skin was grey, translucent, almost. Cuts and bruises peppered the skin he could see, the particularly dark bruise on her cheek standing out easily among the rest.

Anakin could feel the Force flowing through her, strong and steady. He assumed it was what had her on her feet and able to fight. Because he could feel what was beneath that layer of strength that the Force provided, that layer he often used to banish the pain during battle; he felt her lungs shutter as she tried to fill them with air, felt some rupture beneath the bruising skin on her side. Exhaustion surrounded her. 

"We've taken the command center upstairs. Evacuation starts in ten minutes," Anakin said, attempting to bury the dead Sith in his heart as it tempted him with the terrified faces of the slave-driver who had done this to a sixteen year-old girl as he crushed their heart.

"What?" Kiasta's eyes flared with panic as she turned to her father, "Dad, there are hundreds of slaves in the lower levels. _Hundreds_." 

Obi-Wan's brows narrowed as he glanced up at Anakin. 

"We'll head back up and buy you more time," Anakin responded, "Try not to take forever." 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, "You know, I spent the better years of my life waiting on you, Anakin." 

"Yeah, yeah." Anakin extended a hand down to Kiasta, "Lets go, kiddo."

Kiasta flashed his outstretched hand an alarming look, before turning back to her father. "I can help you," she pleaded, "It's a maze down there."

"Absolutely not." Obi-Wan's clipped response was nothing short of final, but the edge softened as he said, "You've done enough." 

Kiasta's chin lifted just a hair, her shoulders squaring. Anakin knew what she was thinking: _I'll decide that for myself, thank you_. To which he would have reminded her that they'd been searching for her for a little over two months; had just about gone out of their minds attempting to locate their missing Kenobi, Anakin himself had lost weeks of sleep over it. Obi-Wan had too. Had he been as young as he looked, he probably would not have hesitated to tell the young Kenobi that she was leaving- and that he would drag her if necessary. And he knew by the way Obi-Wan's chin raised, his posture parallel to his daughter's, that he would do the same. But Anakin knew that there were some things that Obi-Wan had to handle, simply because Obi-Wan was Kiasta's father. He'd stepped out of line enough, so in times like these, he kept his mouth shut and allowed his former master to ease his child off her box of defiance. Though, he couldn't help but grin at how high that box stood off the ground sometimes. 

"The Force is strong in you, but it's the only thing allowing you to stand right now," Obi-Wan said, allowing a little more authority- both as a father and as a Jedi Master- into his voice, "You know better."

Now, if Anakin had said that to his Padawan, who also happened to be his strong-willed, frustrated-to-the-core eighteen year-old granddaughter, she would have looked up at him with eyes glinting; raw, unmeasurable power simmering in her gaze and snarled that she was fine. But Kiasta was a Kenobi, and therefore had been born with something Skywalkers were not all to familiar with: rationality. 

Anakin allowed himself a breath when Kiasta's chin dropped. Obi-Wan's relief was projected only through the Force. 

The room shook again as another tremor shot through the ground, Anakin braced himself against the metal railing. 

Kiasta looked back towards the controls, where a map of the facility was displayed on the screen. 

"Hurry," she told Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan placed a swift hand against her cheek, gesturing to Anakin, "Go." 

Anakin swung a leg over the railing, extending a hand once more down to Kiasta as she approached the bottom of the platform. He grasped her wrists and pulled her up and over the railing with ease; he tried not to grimace at how light she was, especially when he could feel her searching for his thoughts through the Force. 

With one last nod to Obi-Wan, they took off down the corridor, Anakin carefully monitoring Kiasta's pace. 

They only met with one other group of slave-drivers, and Anakin dealt with them with a single slash of his lightsaber, before making it to the lifts. As the lift shuttered to life, Kiasta swayed enough for Anakin to put a steadying hand on her back. 

"I'm okay," she breathed, hands braced on the lift doors. 

Anakin felt her energy bleed, the Force's sheen of protection around her thinning. "I know," he assured before activating his comlink, "It's Skywalker. Belay the destruction of the facility."

Impatience fluttered as Anakin waited for them to figure out just which Skywalker was speaking. 

"Master, are you sure?" replied a young Knight- Captain Theede was his name, if Anakin remembered correctly- it was his vessel that was currently aiding the attack.

"Yes!" Anakin snapped, "There are innocent people trapped in those mines, Captain. You're gonna have to wait until Obi-Wan gets them out." 

"General Kenobi went down there alone? Should we send back-up?" 

"No need. Just wait for my signal."

"Yes, Master. Oh- have you found Kia- Padawan Kenobi?" 

Anakin didn't miss the slip-up. But he could help but smile as he glanced at Kiasta, "We've got her."

Now, lets get her off in one piece.

The lift doors opened and they sprinted down a wide corridor to the main entrance, the doors springing open wide. 

Kiasta's relief sizzled into agony as the sunlight hit their faces, bright and cold as a moonlit night and just about as unpleasant as an afternoon on Tatooine. 

Kiasta shrieked as the sun met her skin, and stumbled back blindly with a hand covering her eyes. Anakin caught her before she could loose her footing, wincing as he felt her sharp agony slice through the Force like lightning as he held her with one arm against his chest. 

It hadn't occurred to him that she probably hadn't seen direct sunlight in months. 

The sight before them was muggy; vibrant glowing blades stood out in the thick haze of dust the fighting had stirred up, the red blaster fire from the opposing maggots still flitted about. Anakin still had one hand enclosed around his own lightsaber, the other knotted into Kiasta's hair, her face face still buried in his chest. 

"Alright, kiddo, we got to get to the transports," he murmured to her, "Can you see at all?"

Kiasta pulled away with a shallow wheeze, blinking violently at the cold light. "Barely."

Good enough. He kept hold of her hand as they navigated through the mess, ducking and swiping left and right to avoid being sliced in half or getting their guts shot out. They made it to the doors of the military-grade shuttle transport before Kiasta finally went down, the pain in her side- Anakin guessed the cause was a broken rib- finally overriding the shielding the Force had provided. 

The pilot's eyes widened as Anakin swooped her up in one arm, a fluid motion that that kept her from slamming into the ground, and told the pilot to fly. And just as he had once held an invisible rank as an Imperial servant, he'd accumulated a similar state within the ranks of these new Jedi as well. The pilot had them in the sky and headed back to the mother ship a little too fast.

"What did this."Not a question, but a near-brutal demand that morphed Anakin's voice into a guttural snarl. He examined his left sleeve, coated in her blood, after setting her down on the floor, keeping one arm around her to help her sit up. 

Kiasta snorted, "Lying on the floor with a broken jaw. Or broken face. I didn't see where I hit. Just heard it." She winced at the ship's florescent lighting and pinched her eyes shut. 

"You're alright," Anakin reminded her, "Lets get you home." 


	5. Chapter 5

**Now **

** **

_**The Shadow** _ **\- Scarlet Wolf's Star Cruiser**

"General Kenobi!"

Obi-Wan stopped his descent down the ramp of the shuttle that had swooped in at the last second to transport him off Helphin 4 and back up to the Shadow; a stunning state-of-the art Star Cruiser that was easily twice the size of any starship he himself had commanded during the Clone Wars. The fact that he was once again aboard one was strange to say the least. And that fact that he was back on one as a Jedi General in a thirty-eight year old's body was even stranger. 

Thirty-eight. Being returned to that age- if that was the right age, no one was quite sure- without the threat of war hanging over his head had been thrilling at first; he had his energy back, his sarcasm. He had Satine back, by some strange miracle that he did not understand. He had Anakin. But after almost twenty years of keeping, when he still honed that youth due to some strange force, he'd been forced to deal with the scars that life had left on him. 

The young dark-haired Padawan Obi-Wan recognized as Malif Harkin halted at the end of the ramp, his tunic dusty and torn but his bright green eyes alight with adrenaline. The boy straightened up before speaking again, "I apologize for my sudden behavior, Master, I was just wondering-"

Obi-Wan held up a hand and not unkindly replied, "She is fine, Malif. Your concern as of now is to assist these people in whatever way you can." 

He glanced around to the dozens of slaves scattered about, several shielding their eyes from the light while others received medical attention.

"Yes, Master," Malif responded with a nod before hurrying off to do as he was told. 

Obi-Wan watched him go, shaking out whatever fears he'd held on to while waiting for the news of Kiasta's rescue. In fact, it had been hard to walk through the temple without being approached by one of the seven other Padawans in Kiasta's generation. They all cared for her quite deeply. As did Obi-Wan's current Padawan, though Blaize Skywalker cared for Kiasta Kenobi perhaps a little more than Obi-Wan should have allowed.

And speaking of Padawans, Obi-Wan's second Padawan was crossing the hanger to meet him, catching the eye of every person in the room as she strode through. 

"How is she?" Obi-Wan asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"In one piece," Scarlet replied tiredly, "Two broken ribs, three fractures, and moderately bruised lungs. Severe scrapes and several second-degree burns, plus extreme light sensitivity. Most of the external we can fix with a night in the Bacta tank, and the sensitivity to light will fix itself overtime, but the internal...that's going to take time."

Yes, it would. Because even when you fixed the broken bones and bloodied skin, that still left Kiasta severely malnourished; she'd been nothing but skin and bones in his arms during that brief moment in the mines. Thinking about how long it would most likely take to get her eating normally again made Obi-Wan feel as though he had no power in the world. 

"She needs a healer," he said softly. 

Scarlet fixed him with a guarded stare, "What she needs is a good night's sleep. Her body is in shock, Obi-Wan, she'll have maybe three days before she's kept up at night. I don't need to remind you what that's like."

Obi-Wan suppressed a shutter as he faintly recalled his time as a hostage within the Zygerrian Slave Empire during the Clone Wars.

Scarlet was right, as she always had been. Even as that small child he trained, freshly plucked from the deserts of Tatooine, Scarlet Wolf had never said an incorrect thing in her life. And as much as Obi-Wan wanted to rush Kiasta to a Force healer and clear her mind of the darkness now hovering there, he knew that it would only cause all that she’d been through in the last two months to resurface…and as his former Padawan- second former Padawan- had pointed out, all he’d wanted after his time on that facility on Kadavo was a few nights of decent sleep. Any other arguments he had were from that of a parent, not a Jedi Master.

_That line has been quite blurred recently, hasn’t it?_ He thought.

He wasn’t wrong. The last two months had been a blur, he didn’t remember anything other than thinking about the possibility that his only child was at the hands of something truly terrible. It had kept him awake at night and made his temper shorter than usual- poor Blaize had probably been wishing for a more mild-tempered master. And it was all due to an attachment Obi-Wan didn’t ever think he’d have.

He’d been trained as a Jedi once; learned the rules, kept to them, and embodied what it was to be a perfect Jedi. Or tried anyway. When that order fell and darkness replaced it, he kept to the new set of rules to keep his best friend’s son safe. He had died doing so. When he returned, that very son had created a new order of Jedi, one with old and new rules to follow. The one rule that set this new code so far apart from the old was that attachments were no longer something to hide.

With that said, Obi-Wan had to constantly remind himself that while attachments were forbidden in the old order, everyone'd still had them. Quinlan Vos had so many different lovers that it was a wonder he lived as long as he did. Aayla Secura and Kit Fisto were intimate and _everyone_ knew it. Anakin was _married_ , for crying out loud! But perhaps he’d looked down on them all without realizing the comfort an attachment could bring.

_Until someone used it against them_. Obi-Wan fell his stomach crawl at the memories that rushed to the surface. Satine and Maul. A black-bladed lightsaber. Him on his knees as he watched the love of his life perish in his arms. A planet lost to war.

That was the problem. The rule of attachments was a double-edged blade; on one hand, Jedi got to be happy with whomever they wished. They could have families and marry and build a life for themselves that didn’t just involve wielding a lightsaber to protect a galaxy of strangers, they could be truly happy without having to hide it. On the other hand, attachments left room for a dangerous weakness. Take a Jedi’s husband or wife, child or sibling and it would lead down a dangerous path for everyone involved.

Ultimately, when it had come down to creating a new order of Jedi, attachments had been allowed because the galaxy needed to understand that Jedi were not unfeeling, laser-wielding machines. They’re sentient beings with just as much to lose, and perhaps the mystery shrouding the Jedi would never be answered to outsiders, but at least they knew that much. At least they were seen as people. And for that, Obi-Wan was glad.

No one had seemed to care the last time the Jedi were wiped out. No one had really acknowledged that thousands of men, women, and children had been slaughtered to make way for a new empire all those years ago. Because the Jedi had been unfeeling beings who knew nothing of the real world to the galaxy’s populace.

Now, the Jedi were grandfathers, grandmothers, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, lovers, etcetera. As much as Obi-Wan debated internally on the good and bad, he truly had no reason to complain. When given the choice, he knew what he’d pick. He already had picked. He’d been happily married for seventeen years now; he had a child. He had his best friend by his side again. There was no choice for him.

“I know,” Obi-Wan admitted, raking a hand through his hair, “I know.”

Scarlet’s gaze softened, reminding him much more of the girl he’d trained long ago. “She’ll be alright, you know.”

Obi-Wan smiled, “Oh, I’m aware. She has you for a master.”

The praise from her master, even after fifty years, warmed Scarlet Wolf’s heart. Obi-Wan could still see that subtle little half smile of a child peeking through the inhumanly beautiful face of the woman before him, some days he still couldn’t believe that the girl he’d practically raised as his own (the second child, in fact, he seemed to have a habit of doing that) was now not only the most powerful thing in the galaxy, but training his biological child. It was near-eerie how things had worked out.

“She’s up in the medical bay when you’re ready to go see her,” Scarlet said, crossing her arms and leaning to one side, “Try not to work her up.”

Obi-Wan scoffed. That sounded more like Anakin than him. “I’ll try to remember that.” With another gentle roll of his eyes, he headed towards the medical bay.

The lighting was dim when Obi-Wan entered the enclosed chamber. Separated from the rest of the medical bay, the large room offered a silent reprieve to Jedi in serious condition.

Kiasta was currently the only patient in the room. She sat on the edge of the medical bed, her shoulders hunched and head drooping. She turned when she heard the door open, meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze as he entered the room and stopped abruptly.

She’d changed out of that filthy compression suit and into a pair of long white pants; she had been bandaged from her torso to her neck, her shoulders still exposed to reveal two arms covered in bruises, scratches, and burns. The injuries weren’t what shocked Obi-Wan, though. Her long auburn hair that had been cropped short during her time in those mines was gone. Almost completely.

Obi-Wan blinked in surprise at her, brows raising a hair as he stepped into the room. Kiasta’s eyes- the eyes of her mother- tracked him all the way to the bed.

When he took a seat next to her, angling his head just a hair to truly peer down at her, he realized for the first time just how much she looked like him.

She had the sharp angles of his face; the high cheekbones and narrow chin, his straight nose and arched brows. He’d never noticed before…he’d always thought she’d taken up after Satine, for the most part. But with her hair cropped this short- shorter than his- every angle and small detail of his daughter’s face was on display.

And even with sunken cheeks and grey circles beneath her eyes, Kiasta was absolutely beautiful.

Obi-Wan could feel her holding her breath as he surveyed her face, clearly waiting for approval or disapproval. He smiled as her anticipation grew, and gently ran his fingers through that bristly layer of hair and down to the nape of her neck.

“It’s different,” she acknowledged with a grimace.

“You look like me.”

Her brows rose to match his expression, “I’ve always looked like you.”

Perhaps. But even still, the resemblance was nothing short of remarkable.

Obi-Wan allowed relief to wash through him as he moved his hand back up to cradle Kiasta’s cheek, careful not to disturb the blossoming bruise there. He might’ve asked how she was feeling, or if anything hurt, but he could sense everything through the Force. Though, he knew she was letting him as she leant into his palm, her eyes un-focusing with exhaustion. She needed rest.

Obi-Wan’s commlink chimed, signaling him back to the bridge. He glanced back up at Kiasta, who gestured back to the door with a meek smile. With a sigh, Obi-Wan pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before rising and making his way back outside.


	6. Chapter 6

** Then: Four Years Ago **

**Aletaron- The Northern Training Arena**

Blaize yelped as he was once again flung back into the dirt by his own sheer power. Well, by the lack of controlling it, anyway.

His chest heaving, he attempted to steady his breathing and stared up into the sky as his hands trembled in frustration. 

_Anger will not consume me_ , he thought, _Anger will not consume me._

He exhaled sharply before sitting up to dust the fine sand from his hair and found his master walking to kneel in front of him, an eyebrow arched in... amusement?

"You try it like that again and you'll end up blasting yourself into the wall." 

Blaize scowled, "And you think that's funny?" 

"I think the fact that I am training a fourteen year-old Jedi Padawan to control a technique that only a master of the dark side is capable of even producing is quite amusing, yes," Obi-Wan quipped. 

Blaize certainly didn't think so.

"It's not like I can help it," he muttered.

Obi-Wan's eyes softened just a hair, but the hint of a smile remained. "I'm aware," he said, pulling the Padawan to his feet. 

Blaize dusted the rest of himself off, inwardly cringing at the sand that had somehow snuck beneath his white-ish tunic. He hated sand. 

Truth be told, he hated this training arena. It was separate from the temple and sat at the top of a flat plateau almost ten miles away (and because his master was Obi-hard-ass Kenobi, they ran there instead of just taking a speeder); thirty foot stone walls surrounded the sandy arena, creating a perfect square. There were different solitary arenas all over the planet for different types of training, this one was mainly for terrain purposes, but not many used it. However, Obi-Wan had started dragging Blaize there practically every other day for the past year since he'd grown strong enough to begin using the power he'd inherited from his mother. Except where her lightning was so white that you could see every color of the rainbow, his was bright orange. Just like his lightsaber.

Kiasta had made the comment that it was a fashion statement the first time she'd watched the orange sparks fly from his fingertips.

"If you're going to swing a lightsaber and electrocute people at the same time, at least your weapons will match," she'd told him.

Frankly Blaize didn't care what color his lightning was, he just wanted the feeling of constant electricity humming in his head to go away. 

"Why can't we just wait till I can actually work with it?" Blaize asked Obi-Wan, "You know I'm not strong enough, yet." 

It had taken him days to get sparks out of his fingers and weeks to get even a crackle of electricity. It was _months_ before he was able to generate enough power to do anything else. He'd managed to start actually holding the lightning in his hands, which had actually been quite amazing; he'd probably stared at the orange strands of humming light criss-cross around over his hands for hours after figuring out how. Now, he was supposed to be directing it somewhere. Somewhere being Obi-Wan's lightsaber, where it would be absorbed. So far, all the lightning did was explode in his face when he tried to send it anywhere. Hence why they were in an arena of sand. He couldn't spark any fires in sand.

"Maybe not strong enough to use it against anyone as a weapon," Obi-Wan agreed. But his face turned suddenly solemn, "But you are strong enough to begin working with it. And you know what happens if you don't." 

Blaize didn't need or want the reminder. 

When his mother had been Obi-Wan's Padawan during the Clone Wars she had forgotten about her...unique ability. It wasn't something attainable like chain lightning or sith lightning, it was something Scarlet Wolf had just been born with. A natural gift. And when she had become a powerful young Jedi Padawan, fully able to wield that lightning, she had lost control of it. The power had been trapped inside and a single burst of anger had it unleashed upon the entire Senate. How the entire ordeal was resolved was another story entirely, but learning how to control the lightning after it became stronger than Scarlet herself had been a nightmare according to Obi-Wan. And according to his mother. And even to Anakin, apparently. 

Blaize had always known that he had inherited the power too. And while it wasn't much use now, he knew that one day it would be something the entire galaxy would talk about. And he would prefer it if the topic of conversation was not about him accidentally burning someone to a crisp. 

"I just don't feel like I'm getting anywhere," he admitted, rubbing the back of his sweaty neck. It was midday and the sun was right overhead. "I'm grounded. My body's aligned. I'm focused. What am I missing?" 

Obi-Wan stared at him with some strange look in his eyes before sighing. 

He did that often. Blaize always wondered if he was thinking about Anakin, his grandfather. Or his father. Or even his mother. Obi-Wan had trained all three, and now him. And he was pretty sure he was some odd combination of all three, both in the flesh and in his actions.

"You aren't missing anything except a few more years of training, my young Padawan," Obi-Wan said finally, placing a hand on Blaize's shoulder, "We are doing this because when you reach that point, when your power truly begins to grow, I want you to be ready."

Blaize heard every underlying meaning to his master's words; unspoken, but very clearly transmitted through the bond of a master and apprentice: _I do not want you to fear the power that you had no choice in having. I do not want that power to hurt you. I want you to be ready for what it means._

Blaize was still trying to figure out the last one. What did his power mean? His mother was...something human and not; something the galaxy had never seen before. His father was the Grand Jedi Master and founder of the new Jedi Order while also being the son of the most powerful force wielder to come into existence. Blaize Skywalker's power would be something no one had ever seen. Though, his twin had a higher midi-chlorian count. 

"How will I even know when I'm ready?" he questioned. 

Obi-Wan's smile was far too knowing. "You'll know. Now, try again." 

Blaize attempted not to groan but did as he was told, shifting his feet in the sand until he felt grounded enough. His master turned back to face him about ten feet away, igniting his lightsaber with a few fancy twists before holding the blade across his body. 

"Remember," Obi-Wan instructed, "A massive amount of power is attempting to escape through your fingers. It keeps exploding in your face because there is too much pressure, therefore you must open the valve a litter wider." 

Blaize grimaced, his muscles tensing as he called upon the power deep in his reservoir. The buzzing in his head became louder as he felt icy heat travel down his arms, flowing through his wrists and knuckles and halting just before the tips of his fingers.

_It's there_ , he told himself, _Let it go._

His hands trembled and he grit his teeth against the sheer power being held hostage in his body, forced by him in its place, where the boy prayed he could keep it. 

Blaize took as steady of a breath as he could manage and raised his hand. 

** Now **

** **

**Jakku**

Lightning slipped from Blaize's fingertips in an array of bright, crackling strands of light, fusing together as they struck the side of the fleeing ship. The air shuttered as the sound of electricity blasting through metal split the air; half the ship exploded, its thrusters frying completely as it begun to spin out of control. 

Blaize gave his wrist a quick flick as the icy heat in his fingers began to cool, the humming in his head lessening to a faint buzz. With his arms crossed, he watched the ship twirl around a few times before finally crashing into the desert, spraying sand and rock as it came to a screeching halt. 

The dust was still settling when Blaize approached, three of the four Junior Padawans that had accompanied him on the journey following suit. 

The bastard who had attempted to escape them was still inside the cockpit, Blaize could feel the dread rolling off the Neimoidian rat, the fear. 

He did not care. 

Switching his lightsaber from his left hand to his right, he ignited one end of the double-bladed weapon and sliced through the cockpit glass to reveal the slimy green coward, trembling as he took in the orange blade and the Jedi that came with it. 

Blaize angled his head slightly, eyes narrowing, and without warning outstretched his hand, the Force flowing through him like a river as it yanked the crime lord through the cockpit,through the hole Blaize had created, and straight into his curled fingers. 

"Nake, is it?" Blaize said as the creatures long fingers clawed at the wrist wrapped around its throat, "You thugs are all the same."

Blaize had only encountered a few Neimoidians in his life, but every single one he'd met had very much put him off about liking the species. So far, they'd all seemed to be scheming, green-ish little hungry-power warlords with a knack for pissing off Blaize's father. This one in particular- Nake Feldre- had been running an underground slave trading operation specializing in young women he and his operatives had stolen off various worlds. Blaize and his small team had been tasked with taking the entire ordeal down, and after two months, it was time to finish the job. 

Nake's large red eyes bulged as he continued to struggle against Blaize's iron grip. 

"Please!" he wheezed, "Please, I'll do any-anything- what-ever you want!"

Blaize's lip curled into a snarl as he raised his arm a little higher, the Neimoidian's feet now barely touching the ground. 

"I want you to suffer as the women you _abducted_ have," Blaize snarled. 

He dropped Nake on his pitiful ass, shaking his head in disdain as Varii Ofine- a young Mirialan- dragged the sobbing crime to his feet before cuffing him and shoving him off to their ship.

Malikk Harkin sighed from where he was perched atop the crashed starship, "Is it wrong to feel bad for the creep?" 

"Not at all," Blaize answered, "In the end, it's going to be him suffering. You just have to remember that his sudden change of heart and promises of amends is a means to save himself from what is coming to him. There's no remorse there."

_And a thing that feels no remorse is perhaps the saddest thing of all._

He felt Malikk's dark eyes on him, and glanced up to find the human Padawan staring down at him in awe. 

"You know, sometimes I wonder why they haven't just made you a knight yet," Malikk said. 

Blaize snorted, but made no comment. 

Truth be told, during his Consultation with the Council they'd flat-out informed him that he could be knighted right then and there. That had been a month ago and he'd chosen to stay a Senior Padawan rather than be knighted for two reasons: becoming a knight after only a month of being a Senior Padawan would draw even more unwanted attention to him, and becoming a knight at eighteen years old would make him the youngest knight in history. He already felt as though he was so much older than he really was, just being here with these Padawans- who were only a few years younger than he- made him feel ancient. 

And in terms of power, of skill, and of knowledge, he truly was ready to become a knight...but it was too soon to add another unwanted title to his name. 

The last two months he'd thrown himself into this mission after turning down the Jedi Council and kept busy not thinking about what still kept him awake at night. Now the mission was over; they were headed home. 

He turned away, flexing his left hand as he faced the horizon. This planet- Jakku- had been speaking to him since that jumped out of hyperspace. They were only here to catch Nake, but something else...something else was here. Blaize didn't know what it was, but he could sense so many things through the Force. 

Strength. Fear. Hope. Longing. Darkness. Light. Balance. Chaos. 

_What are you_ , he wondered silently.

"Commander!"

Skena Ten's voice rang sliced through the silence from their ship. 

Blaize glanced back, finding the male Twi-Lek already racing towards him through the sand. 

"I've just received a transmission from Malif," Skena breathed. 

"My brother?" Malikk hopped down from his perch, "I thought he was on a surveillance mission with Master Kai." 

"He was," Skena told him, "they were pulled back. Everyone not on a top-level priority mission was pulled back." 

"For what?" Blaize asked, though somewhere in the back of his mind, he already knew the answer. 

Skena nodded in response to the change in Blaize's energy and said, "They've found her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am alive and may I just say that writing this chapter was like watching a filler episode. That is my only excuse for taking three months to write it. Also, sorry for the lack of art! There will be more when I have time to draw them! Enjoy!

** Now **

**The Shadow- Scarlet's Wolf's Star Cruiser**

Kiasta slept like the dead.

She dreamed of nothing and when she woke up, she remembered nothing. Felt nothing. 

The lights were still dim in the enclosed medical chamber when Kiasta blinked open her eyes for the first time in what felt like years; she had maybe five seconds before the sickeningly sterile smell of the med-bay had her sitting up, gagging as the contents in her stomach threatened to spew all over the bed. Luckily, there wasn't anything to spew, as she hadn't eaten in...how long had she been out? A couple of hours?

"You've been out for two days." 

Kiasta glanced up just as the headache began to settle in and found her master sitting in a chair at the end of the bed. 

Unsurprisingly, Scarlet Wolf looked exactly the same as the last time Kiasta had seen her. Beautiful as ever, with her long strawberry-blonde hair pulled back from her face and brown eyes large and warm. Her beauty was never what had intimidated Kiasta, but rather Scarlet's way of conveying just how powerful she was. It was in the way she carried herself; took in every detail there was to see and even the ones you couldn't, it was the way that even just sitting five feet away, Kiasta could feel the power beneath her master's golden skin. This was a warrior of legend. Her father's second Padawan and a veteran of literally every war and every rebellion for the last fifty-three years. 

To this day, Kiasta's proudest moment was being picked to be Scarlet's Padawan. 

"Makes sense," Kiasta replied, wincing as her head throbbed. 

Scarlet's sympathetic smile was a sight for sore eyes as she said, "I like your hair."

Kiasta groaned, running a hand from her forehead to the nape of her neck, finding that her once-long auburn hair was now very short. What she didn't find was the strip of healing skin from where she'd nearly had her neck sliced open. 

Looking back up at her master in question, Scarlet sighed. 

"Bacta. You were in the tank your first night," she said. 

"And I didn't wake up?" 

"Nope. We didn't even have to give you any sedatives, the Force put you right to sleep." 

Kiasta found the evidence in the lack of bruises and cuts on her skin, though she could still feel the tenderness of the one on her cheek. 

"And the rest?' she asked. 

It was Scarlet's turn to grimace. "The rest will require extensive time with a Force Healer."

That statement rang true as Kiasta shifted and felt her upper body whine in protest at the movement, the sudden pressure on her chest forcing her to still.

“Great,” she managed tightly, “How long does this put me out of commission?”

Scarlet didn’t answer. And she was saved from answering by the opening doors and Anakin Skywalker striding in with a very unsettling look on his face. The look remained in his eyes, but a smile spread across his face.

“Have a nice nap?” he asked Kiasta with that familiar crooked smile.

Kiasta couldn’t not return the grin.

Anakin glanced at Scarlet; the gesture so small yet Kiasta knew it held more meaning than she might ever know.

Anakin had been Obi-Wan’s first padawan, Scarlet had been his second. They’d been a family of sorts before the dark times, and then the three of them had been scattered to the wind. Obi-Wan had gone to Tatooine to watch over Anakin’s son, while Scarlet had joined Bail Organa on Alderaan to safeguard Anakin’s daughter. Of course, after a time Scarlet began her own war against the Empire, against Vader. When Obi-Wan had died and just the two of them were left, Scarlet had been left with nineteen-year-old Luke and Leia. Not long after, Vader- or rather Anakin- had discovered the existence of his son. And later his daughter. And both were in the hands of Scarlet Wolf.

Kiasta didn’t really know much about what happened after that. Nobody did. She knew that after the Empire’s reign ended and many dead Jedi had returned- Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi being two of many- Scarlet and Anakin had somehow put everything behind them and reconciled.

Though seeing Scarlet with Obi-Wan and Anakin was much different than seeing her with Han, Luke, and Leia. Obi-Wan was practically Scarlet’s father, just as he was Kiasta’s, while Anakin was her brother of sorts. Leia was Scarlet’s best friend. Han was…kind of that annoying little kid she was forced to put up with. And what Luke was to Scarlet was another story entirely.

The entire dynamic was so confusing that most people just didn’t question it, what mattered was that it worked. Luke Skywalker- along with his strange little family- had remolded the galaxy entirely and kept it safe in the process.

And Kiasta- though she didn’t think on it too often- was a part of that strange little family.

Anakin bent down next to Kiasta’s bed, bluer than blue eyes glancing over her; assessing.

Scarlet’s commlink chimed, and she stood with a heavy sigh. “I will be on the bridge,” she told them, her eyes locking with Anakin’s once more before she turned to leave.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Kiasta said softly.

Scarlet paused and Kiasta pretended she didn’t notice her master’s wince as she turned back around, a very carefully measured expression on her face. A look that quite often passed over young Quinn Skywalker’s beautiful little face.

“I don’t know,” Scarlet replied exasperatedly, “But don’t plan on any missions for at least the next few months.”

Well, at least Kiasta could always trust her master to be honest.

She nodded shallowly and tried to keep her face from betraying anything she felt.

“Don’t do that.” Anakin was frowning at her.

Kiasta stifled her groan. One thing about constantly being around Skywalkers- they always knew what was going on in your head. Always.

“I’m fine,” she retorted with as much bite as she could muster.

Anakin leveled a flat stare at her. Kiasta stared back, but she was suddenly too tired to keep up any defiant gaze.

Anakin loosed a sigh of his own before taking a seat next to her on the bed, careful not to disturb her still form and awaken any wounds. He didn’t say anything, instead he just watched as she sorted through her own mind.

She felt heavy. She had all her memories and she still felt the Force flowing through her, but it felt…wrong somehow. Like the living Force itself within her wasn’t really living within _her_ anymore. It felt housed in a foreigner. _She_ felt like a foreigner in her own body.

“I don’t feel like…I should,” she managed to get out, her voice cracking. She didn’t know how else to say it. She didn’t. Every inch of her body hurt, her mind hurt, and she was absolutely exhausted. But she felt numb.

“I know,” Anakin took her hand in his mechanical one, the metal hard beneath his thick white glove, “I know.” He wasn’t just answering her remark.

Kiasta took a deep breath in as she traced the crimson band of his glove with her other hand, her long, thin fingers allowing her mind to recollect some foggy, bloody memory. Still, nothing.

“Anakin, Luke practically dissolved slavery in this galaxy years ago,” she said quietly, “How did an operation that large escape our attention?”

Anakin’s entire body went stiff.

Even after 63 years, just the mere mention of slavery still set him on edge.

“I don’t know,” he finally ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair, “But we’ve uncovered dozens of facilities in the past few weeks alone; that operation was one of most-likely hundreds.”

 _Hundreds?_ Kiasta felt her stomach lurch and gulped. “Hundreds of those facilities?” That sparked something deep within her, and suddenly her body went icy.

“A slave empire,” she realized, “Someone’s building a slave empire.” She shook her head numbly, “How do you know that these operations are connected?”

It was a question she didn’t really need answered, they were Jedi, if the operations were connected- they would know.

“Are all of these operations mining operations?” Kiasta asked, rubbing at her sore arms as the faint memory of dust and small multi-colored gemstones filled her mind. She had to blink several times to assure herself that she wasn’t buried beneath rock and stone.

Anakin shook his head, eyes still carefully trained on her face.

“Some of them were, but others weren’t. There isn’t exactly a pattern,” he grimaced, “And currently we only have three of the idiots in charge.”

Anakin’s commlink chimed.

“Anakin, where are you?” Came Obi-Wan’s clipped voice. Kiasta couldn’t help but smile as Anakin rolled his eyes, shooting her a smirk.

“With your kid, why?” he shot back.

“We need you up on the bridge. It’s urgent.”

Anakin got to his feet, releasing Kiasta’s hand. “All right, kiddo. Do me a favor and go back to sleep, alright?”

Kiasta scoffed, “I’ve been asleep for two days. I think I’m good on sleep.”

“In my experience, there is no such thing as too much sleep,” Anakin informed her with a wink. His gaze sharpened for a moment before he left, the look instructing very clearly to stay put and rest.

Kiasta obeyed for maybe thirty minutes before pulling back the sheets.

She felt a sharp warning from the Force as she shifted her legs over the side of the bed, her body whining at just the small movement. Anticipating the pain, it was almost bearable when she stood, the pressure on her bare feet so heavy it was if she had gained weight and not lost it. Her legs trembled beneath her so violently that she was genuinely surprised she didn’t collapse.

With a deep breath inward and a crushing pain in her lungs, Kiasta allowed the Force to seep through her body, into her blood and bones, taking on her pain as its own.

When she took the first step, she still felt the pain, but it was merely an echo. She would deal with it later.

Kiasta considered heading up to the bridge first, but opted against it in favor of visiting the flight deck, where she knew her fellow captors were being held for the time being.

“Kiasta!”

Kiasta felt a breath whoosh out of her as a small Twi’lek child squeezed her around the middle almost as soon as she’d entered the cavernous space. Wincing slightly at the pain that shot through her side, Kiasta gently unwrapped the girl’s thin arms from around her waist.

“And how are you feeling, Daisha?” she asked with a smile as she gazed into a pair of sparkling green eyes; alight with wonder and excitement as a child’s should be.

“Oh, I’m fine! My eyes kind of hurt but I don’t care! Also, can you fly these ships? There are so many? Also, what happened to your face? It’s a lot prettier.”

“Daisha!” The girl’s sister- a Twi’lek named Denera- made her way over with a disgruntled look. “Shoo! Don’t bother the Jedi.”

Daisha stuck her small pink tongue out before bounding off to join a group of other young children.

Danera shook her head as Kiasta chuckled. “How does she have that kind of energy?” Danera asked, “I feel like I could sleep for a month.”

Kiasta sighed, “Children don’t go through what we do the same way. They don’t understand it the same way.”

She paused to glance around the hangar at the hundreds of people; sitting with blankets wrapped around their shoulders while staring into oblivion with wide, unfocused eyes. Others were being tended to by medics. Children- dirty, bruised, and thin- ran around, dodging beneath ships or trailing behind the Jedi that lingered to keep an eye on the scene.

“They will one day,” Kiasta continued, “But let’s be glad that day isn’t today.”

Denera nodded silently before turning to Kiasta with a tired smile, “So, do you just go back to being a Jedi now? To saving the galaxy every other day?”

Kiasta fought the harsh laugh that threatened to erupt from her mouth. “I wish it were that simple,” she replied with a grimace, “but who knows. Perhaps in a few months you’ll see me on the HoloNet. Where do you go from here?”

Denera shrugged at the question.

“Home, I guess?” she said, “I just hope they forgive me.”

Kiasta knew that feeling. She’d felt it after boarding Gje’ alna’s ship two months ago.

_I hope they forgive me for disappearing._

“They will,” Kiasta told Denera.

“Kenobi!”

Kiasta turned to find Malif Harkin striding towards her from across the hangar. With a grin, Kiasta nodded to Denera and turned to meet her friend.

He halted right in front of her, covered in dust and grinning brightly.

“I’d hug you but something tells me that’s not a good idea,” he said as his eyes passed over the bandaging.

“That would be my shattered ribs and bruised lungs,” Kiasta replied with a tight grin.

“Ah,” Malif grimaced, “Well, I’d take broken Kiasta over no Kiasta, if that counts for anything.”

Kiasta couldn’t stop her laugh this time. And she let it ring even when her lungs were crying out.

Malif was one of the seven other padawans she’d grown up next to. The eight of them had learned to fight next to one another. Had sat for hours learning the different star systems together. They were practically siblings. Kiasta was the eldest of them, and the unelected leader, according to- well- everyone except Kiasta.

Malif was one of the twin human padawans in this group. Tall and broad-shouldered with bright green eyes and dark, shoulder-length hair. The silver lightsaber hanging from his belt reminded Kiasta that she still did not have hers.

“Well, hopefully she won’t be broken from much longer,” Kiasta managed. Though something told her that the statement was untrue. And she knew that Malif knew it too.

“You heading up to the bridge?” Malif asked, sensing the need for a subject change.

“I would, but I feel like I would be ushered straight back to the medical bay.”

From the look Malif gave her, he clearly agreed. But he chose the smarter option and instead said, “Well, everyone up there might be coming down to you anyway.”

Kiasta was about to ask why when another familiar presence hit her like stones.

Malif’s grin told her enough about the ship that had just entered the hangar doors and was beginning its landing.

Three familiar presences. One of which burned with anger, excitement, and about a thousand other emotions.

 _She always feels so much_ , Kiasta thought as she and Malif walked to wait in front of the docking area for the doors to open.

When the doors finally opened, Calysta Skywalker was the first one down the ramp.

“My ribs have been shattered and my lungs are half dead,” Kiasta said quickly as her best friend fixed her with that intense Skywalker gaze.

“I don’t care.”

Kiasta felt her body yelp as Kiasta gripped her in a tight embrace but relaxed into the familiarity.

Calysta had been Kiasta’s best friend and partner for as long as either of them could remember. Calysta was two years older, but that had never mattered. Some called the pair the upgraded Skywalker-Kenobi duo, and one was very rarely without the other.

When the two finally broke their embrace, Kiasta realized that Calysta looked…older.

Calysta had always been a unique kind of beautiful. Taller than Kiasta by three inches and gifted with gentle curves and a slender waist, Calysta carried the genetics of her grandfather and father; bright blue eyes, sun-kissed golden skin, and a smile to stop anyone in their tracks. Standing here now, she’d lost some of the youthfulness that usually clung to her cheeks, and her hair had darkened. And as the daughter of Scarlet Wolf, Calysta had also inherited her mother’s strange inhuman beauty. Kiasta hadn’t noticed it as much when they were little, but she noticed now the stillness of something not of this world in the way Calysta now held herself. Just as she noticed the roaring power beneath the young Skywalker’s smooth skin.

The power had always been there, but Kiasta had never heard it rumble quite so loudly. It was just as loud as the electricity humming in Calysta’s twin brother, Blaize.

Kiasta felt something different when she thought of Blaize.

But she did not sense him here.

Instead, the ship’s doors opened once more and out walked Poe Dameron, a young, unextraordinary pilot the order had practically adopted. And behind him was Calysta’s cousin, Ben Solo.

Kiasta felt the weight of Ben’s dark eyes almost immediately.

“You look terrible,” was Poe’s way of greeting.

Kiasta smiled. He certainly hadn’t changed much; a head of dark fluffy curls, a blaster at his side, and that tan leather jacket he never seemed to take off.

“Yeah. I look just like you now,” Kiasta retorted.

Poe grinned, “Ah, so she’s still in there somewhere. You had me worried for a second.”

Kiasta own grin faltered as Ben approached, his black hair longer than the last time she’d seen it. He looked much like his father, Han.

“You had us all worried,” he told her.

He felt different. Why did he feel so different?

“I was starting to get a little worried myself,” Kiasta admitted, “but that doesn’t matter. Where have you been?”

The three of them were covered in dust and grit, their faces smudged with ash.

Calysta and Poe glanced to Ben, who opened his mouth once before closing it and straightening.

“Master,” he nodded as Anakin practically appeared at Calysta’s side.

Kiasta didn’t miss Poe’s half step away from the older Jedi.

“Ben, Luke is waiting for you back at Kia Base. He’ll debrief you there.”

Never once had Kiasta heard Anakin Skywalker address Luke Skywalker as Master Skywalker, or Grandmaster as most everyone else did. It had always just been ‘Luke’ or ‘my son’. Formalities were short of nonexistent between the father and son.

Ben nodded, “I’m assuming we found another one?” His eyes darted to Kiasta for a moment.

Anakin nodded darkly, “Luke will explain. Be careful.”

Dismissed, Ben’s gaze was nothing short of slightly irritated. But he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he crossed the few feet between him and Kiasta and took her hand.

Neither said nothing, but Kiasta allowed the warmth in his eyes to spread throughout her body, the look she’d always found when she’d needed to feel safe growing up.

But as he pulled away and walked back to the ship, Kiasta couldn’t help but feel that something was different.

“What’s happened, Master?” Malif asked Anakin, breaking Kiasta’s silent train of thought.

Kiasta glanced at Calysta, who returned her gaze with a look that said: nothing good.

Anakin glanced around, easily catching the not-so-subtle attention turned on them by several of the rescued people.

“They’ll explain in the debriefing up on bridge,” he replied, “and you”- he fixed Kiasta with a stare too full of amusement to be harsh- “is there anything I can say to you that is going to get you back in the medbay?”

Calysta scoffed, “You’d have better luck having tea with Jawa.”

Kiasta returned Anakin’s stare with a half-smile that didn’t reach her eyes. When his gaze softened, she knew he wasn’t about to argue.

“If you want to fight with your mother-hen of a father, I’m not going to stop you.”

“Just gets us more free entertainment,” Calysta added. Poe and Malik both snorted with laughter, and Kiasta was tempted to as well…but she only managed to widen her smile a bit.

She felt the weight of Anakin’s gaze then, the warning in it, reminding her that the Force could only bear her pain for so long. But he said nothing, only turned and led them up to the bridge. 


End file.
